


Baby Steps

by Ixthalia



Series: The Shaping & Thawing of Ice [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, First Dates, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Internal Conflict, Minor Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Pietro Maximoff Lives, Pietro Maximoff is a Little Shit, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Avengers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Rape Recovery, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22675906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ixthalia/pseuds/Ixthalia
Summary: *Sequel to 'The Prodigal'*After decades under Hydra's thumb, Irina Barnes is free.Free to figure out who she is. Free to enjoy and love her new friends and family...But as she tries to find her place in the Avenger's compound, the consequences of her's and Bucky's actions in Austria come back to bite them.Suddenly the new life she's trying to make is in jeopardy and Pietro Maximoff - the man she trusts with every fibre of her being - might not be around to help her see it through to the end...[On hiatus, pending a rewrite and reworking of my outline, 1/29/2021]
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Shaping & Thawing of Ice [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1507298
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	1. Uncharted Territory

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear readers! The sequel to 'The Prodigal' is here!
> 
> This fic will eventually earn its 'E' rating and include scenes of violence, gore, and smut. All detailed of course, because 'go big or go home' right?  
> Please be aware of that prior to delving into this story. Tags will be updated as we go along.
> 
> Pietro/Irina are our main pairing, but story will contain background Nat/Bucky.

Irina sat on her bed, pictures of her adventures across Europe and Asia with her dad strewn across her duvet. She had to narrow the few hundred she’d chosen to print out, down to two dozen to fill the collage frames she’d bought.

It seemed simple enough when she set out to do it, but she’d been staring at the pictures for an hour now with no real progress.

How was it possible that she could find a way to overthink something so minor?

“Lost in thought, milaya?”

She smiled before glancing up from the pictures to the source of the welcomed interruption.

Natasha leaned against the doorframe to her room, arms crossed and a fond look in her eye.

“Trying to figure out my favorites to go in the frames,” she sighed, absentmindedly brushing aside the pictures on top to get a better look at the layer underneath, “didn’t think it was such a difficult thing when I set out…”

Natasha smiled and approached her bed.

“Maybe you just need another pair of eyes?”

She sat on the edge of Irina’s bed and chucked as her gaze fell on a picture of Bucky at the Great Wall of China.

“Was he this ridiculous the entire trip?” Nat asked, holding up the picture.

It had taken almost three weeks of traveling for Irina to finally coax him into letting her take pictures of him. Until then, he’d insisted on playing the role of photographer, which she appreciated but she wanted at least of few of him. The Great Wall of China had him geeking out almost immediately though, and the second she’d offered, he was grinning like an idiot for the first of many pictures.

After that, she didn’t even have to ask, and by the time they’d reached the Terracotta Army, they were taking selfies.

_Oh, if Hydra could see him now…_

“After China, yes,” she laughed, taking the picture, “I think he finally figured out how to relax…”

Irina sat the photo aside to be added to the frame, and Natasha smirked.

“Think you figured it out too?” she asked.

Irina shrugged.

“I’m getting there…I loved traveling with dad, and Nyarai’s helped a lot too.”

“She’s the counsellor you were working with in Wakanda?”

Irina nodded.

“I’m still working with her actually. We have a standing appointment – every Friday at 7pm my time.”

It had taken her a bit to wrap her head around opening up to a stranger. Even with Hydra’s trigger words erased from her mind, the impact of their treatment remained. In the beginning, when she was fresh from cryo, good days still remained few and far between for her. It was disheartening, and in some ways it left Irina feeling worse than she had before entering cryostasis.

But the Wakandan woman was patient to the point of sainthood.

It pissed Irina off on more than one occasion early on, but there was no getting a rise from her.

When Irina pushed back, Nyarai didn’t press.

She didn’t flinch in the least.

When Irina insulted her, Nyarai walked away.

She’d wait, usually by the water with a good book, until Irina’s outburst died down and she returned of her own accord.

It was…unsettling at first, to speak openly to someone so calm, so wise beyond their years.

Initially, Irina had written it off as arrogance, but as she watched Nyarai with others she realized her patience and compassion wasn’t insincere. 

So she’d relented and begun humoring the woman’s attempts to coax a real conversation from her.

And somewhere along the way, Irina realized those talks helped.

Nyarai helped her put things in perspective, helped her better understand how - while the traumas she endured certainly shaped her - they did not define her. Most importantly perhaps, was that Nyarai had begun to chip away gently at the walls of blame, hurt, and self-loathing Irina had surrounded herself with after her rape.

For the first time, Irina was able to admit that it wasn’t her fault.

She wasn’t weak or dirty.

It wasn’t as thought Nyarai had ‘fixed’ her.

She wasn’t broken.

She was healing.

And some days were still hard.

Some days she couldn’t tell herself she wasn’t at fault. The words were heavier on her tongue as though they were foreign all together…

But Nyarai said those days were okay to have, so Irina tried her best not to beat herself up too badly when they rolled around.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Natasha said softly, “we want you to be happy.”

Irina smirked and glanced to her from the corner of her eye.

“’We’, hmm?”

It was a poorly contained secret that Natasha and Bucky had started ‘going steady’ upon his return to the compound. Irina still didn’t quite understand why it was something not to be openly acknowledged – not when everyone was so happy for them – but figured she wasn’t in the position to be dishing out relationship advice.

They were happy, that was all that mattered.

Natasha leaned in and gave her a bit of a knowing look as she fought and failed to contain a downright giddy grin from gracing her lips. She looked as though she was going to say something, then thought better of it, pursing her lips and nudging Irina with her elbow.

“You do know I’m in my fifties,” Irina scoffed, “and that I wasn’t raised under a rock.”

_Well…the bunker was underground but…_

“Wasn’t suggesting it,” Natasha whispered.

“Sure,” Irina rolled her eyes, “since we’re not allowed to talk about it like grown-ups – unofficially? Off the record? I’m happy he’s got you.”

Natasha regarded her fondly before mouthing ‘thank you’.

“Though it goes without saying that if you hurt him you’ll have me to deal with,” Irina added with a snort of amusement.

“Noted,” Natasha laughed, “thought if we’re talking about officially ‘unofficial’ relationships…”

Irina groaned.

_Here it comes…_

“Tony said you and Pietro were under that car for a while…”

_Yup…there it is…_

“And he was holding your hand when you finally decided to join us…”

“So?”

Natasha gave an exaggerated gasp and swatted her arm.

“So, give me details! When’s the big date?”

It was a good question; one Irina wasn’t sure how to answer.

Everything had been so chaotic since she’d gotten back. Nearly the entire team was deployed on missions and there had been a stretch of three days where Irina was completely alone.

_Man, those were three very dull days…_

Pietro had texted her often while he was gone, but hadn’t mentioned anything about going out when he got back…

_Maybe…_

“I don’t know, really,” Irina admitted quietly, “he’s been busy since I got back so…”

Natasha frowned.

“I suppose he has, hasn’t he?”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Irina said quickly, far too quickly to be taken seriously, “really…”

“Irina…”

“I am,” she insisted, “it’s just…Nat, I don’t know how this works…”

“How what works?”

Irina sighed heavily.

“Dating…if that’s what he and I are doing. I don’t even know! I keep thinking that maybe he forgot or, or maybe he’s changed his mind, or –

Natasha raised her hand and Irina’s panicked rant skidded to a stop.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” Nat said with a short laugh, “you haven’t done this before, it only makes sense that it’d be a little scary.”

“Still feels dumb…”

“It’s not,” Nat said firmly, grabbing her hand, “I’m sure the second he gets back from Spain you’ll get that date.”

“I hope so…”

Nat squeezed her hand.

“He’s crazy about you Irina. Don’t go doubting it.”

* * *

Irina woke early to the sound of her phone pinging. She figured it was her alarm and groaned as she fought against the pull of her tangled blankets to reach it on her nightside table.

She tugged it free from the charge cord, blinking the fog from her eyes as she tried to make out the screen. After a few seconds of squinting, she realized it wasn’t her alarm.

She had an incoming call.

From Pietro.

At three o’clock in the morning…

Her immediate thought was that something was wrong.

Did the illegal arms dealers give them a harder time than anticipated? Was he hurt?

_Oh my god…_

That was it, had to be.

He was hurt and she wasn’t there to watch his back.

As she swiped across the screen to accept the call, one thought played on repeat in her mind.

_Please be okay…please be okay…please be okay…_

“H-Hello?”

“Printsessa!”

“Pietro, are you okay?” she asked quickly, her voice still a bit garbled from sleep, “is everything going alright? What –

“Woah, love, I’m alright,” he soothed, “honest. I…I just wanted to hear your voice…”

She sighed in relief, slumping back into her pillow as her heart regained its normal rhythm.

“Irina?”

She took a second to take a deep breath before she tried to speak, not trusting herself to remain composed if she dared answer right away.

“Love?”

His tone was hushed and worried.

“Pietro,” she breathed, “it’s 3 o’clock in the morning…I thought…I thought something was wrong…”

He gasped.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, printsessa! I forgot to think about the time zones…”

“It’s okay, Pietro. I’m just glad you’re alright…”

_You’ve got no idea you stupid, stupid man…_

“I’m an ass,” he grumbled.

“You’re not an ass, Pietro.”

He didn’t seem to have heard her though.

“I’ll let you get back to bed –

“No!” she interjected sharply, “I’m up –

“Because of me…”

“Pietro, please, it’s alright. Really.”

A pause, and then –

“Really?”

Irina chuckled.

“Yes,” she said firmly, “now, have you driven Tony insane yet?”

He laughed and her heart fluttered at the sound.

“I’d need more time, love. He’s a tough one to crack.”

“I have faith in you.”

“So kind, printsessa,” he teased, “how can I repay you?”

She smirked, able to clearly picture the smug grin that was undoubtedly plastered on his perfect lips…

“Just get home soon, okay?”

“I’ll try, love,” he cleared his throat, “I was actually thinking about that dinner I promised you…”

Worry reared its ugly head, but she tried to smother it. He had called her after all.

But logic always had a tough fight on its hands when facing anxiety, so it bled through, nonetheless.

“And here I thought you’d forgotten…”

She tried to make it light and teasing, but knew she fell flat the second the words passed her lips.

“That would be impossible, Irina,” he said softly, “I’m sorry we’ve had to put it off, but I promise I still really want it to happen. Do…do you?”

The vulnerability in his tone startled her and she kicked herself for shaking his confidence with her petty and underserved jab.

“I do, Pietro, I really do,” she swore, pouring everything she had into erasing the doubt she’d sowed, “I’m so sorry…fuck, I’m not good at this…I haven’t got a damn clue what I’m doing…”

Plop her down in any combat situation, and she’d find her footing instantly.

Give her any weapon, and she’d handle it expertly.

But this?

It was uncharted, just as terrifying as it was exciting, and a large part of her felt it was just a matter of time before she fucked it up.

Pietro let out a light, quick breath and she chewed her bottom lip in worry.

“Irina, its okay, love. We’ll figure it out, yes? I meant what I said in the garage, I meant everything behind that kiss…I really want to have dinner with you.”

She smiled brightly, suddenly warm and giddy and desperate to hug him.

“I really want to have dinner with you, too.”

“Good,” he said, and she knew he was smiling that dopey smile she loved, “now tell me - how badly are you blushing, printsessa?”

She laughed and touched her cheek.

“I dunno…my cheek’s warm though…and I wish you were here.”

“Do you now?”

“Yeah…could use one of your hugs.”

She heard rough, hurried voices in the background and caught Pietro yelling something, likely over his shoulder, to Tony and the others. She had to move the phone away from her ear, but quickly put it back when she heard him say her name.

“Irina, love, I’ve got to go; we’re moving out.”

She swallowed hard.

“Please be careful; listen to Tony, even if he’s being snippy and unreasonable, okay?”

“Promise,” more muffled sounds, and then, “I’ll be back as soon as I can!”

“Just be safe,” she said quickly, “I want you in one piece, handsome.”

He laughed and said her name before a sharp crack resounded over the call, followed by silence.

The line cut out not long after.

Irina sat staring down at her phone in the dark for some time afterwards, trying to reassure herself it was nothing.

He probably tripped and broke his phone.

Or Tony confiscated it.

But whatever it was, Pietro was alright.

He had Tony, Clint, and Sam with him – his back was thoroughly covered.

She let out a long, shaky breath.

Was this how it was always going to be when he left for missions?

She frowned, not liking the idea of being such a tightly wound bundle of nerves and worry whenever he left…

_Pietro wouldn’t like it either…_

She didn’t go back to sleep, but she did come up with an idea.

* * *

Irina hurried past the kitchen, only to slide to a stop at the sound of her name. She backtracked, peaking around the corner to find a thoroughly amused Natasha and Bucky eating breakfast at the dinner table.

It was a delightfully domestic sight – them both still in their sweats, Natasha in an oversized shirt Irina suspected to be her dad’s, and he in a Henley. Their hair was still ruffled from sleep, his worse than hers.

An impressive feat, since he’d had a haircut.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Natasha asked.

“Nowhere special,” Irina answered with a smile.

Nat glared at her, slowly raising her spoon to point at her with it.

“Spill, Barnes.”

Irina sighed and stepped out from around the corner.

“I was hoping to find Happy or Pepper,” she admitted, “wanted to ask them something…”

“What?”

Irina hesitated and they looked at her expectantly.

“You’ll laugh,” she finally muttered, nervously fidgeting with the cuff of her sleeve.

“Sweetheart, we’re not going to laugh.” Bucky promised, smiling softly at the sight of her so frazzled, “Irina…come on.”

“I…I wanted to see if they’d be good enough to…to find me a job or…something to do around the compound.”

“Why would we laugh, that’s a great idea!” Bucky said, turning to Nat and giving her an incredulous look, “why would she think we’d laugh?”

Natasha patted his shoulder and rolled her eyes, turning her focus to Irina.

“It is a really good idea, milaya, what prompted it?”

Irina shrugged.

“Pietro called me this morning –

“He did?” Natasha interrupted, “when?”

“Three o’clock. Anyway, he said he’s fine, but I thought having something to do, like a job, might help distract me from worrying non-stop when he’s on a mission.”

“It’s a good idea, Ms. Barnes,” Friday added cheerfully, “Ms. Potts is in her office, should I tell her that you’re headed her way?”

“Yes, Friday, thank you,” she backed out of the kitchen, smiling at Bucky and Nat, “I’ll see you guys later!”

“Best of luck, milaya!” Nat called after her.

Bucky’s well-wishes were muffled by his mouthful of cereal, but Irina figured they were along the same lines.

* * *

“What brings you to this end of the compound, Irina?” Pepper asked with a smile, setting aside the files she’d been working on to give Irina her undivided attention.

Irina shifted nervously in the seat she’d taken.

It suddenly seemed foolish to ask for a job in the very facility she’d attacked on more than one occasion, and she scolded herself inwardly for being so insensitive and not considering it sooner. Pepper’s receptionist had barely managed to contain her discomfort when she’d entered her office - what would the rest of the compound’s staff think?

But she’d passed the point of return.

What could she do, turn and run from the office?

_It’s tempting…_

“I had an idea,” Irina began quietly, “that I thought maybe you’d be good enough to discuss with Tony and Nick, mull it over. It…seems a bit stupid now, though.”

Pepper’s expression was sympathetic and patient.

“I doubt that, Irina. What is it?”

Irina took a deep breath.

“I was hoping…a job or…or role could be found for me at the compound?” she stammered, “even something small. Anything to keep my mind occupied when everyone else is gone and…and make me feel like I’m earning my keep.”

Pepper’s brow raised ever so slightly in surprise, but that was the only tell she gave.

“I know some might not be comfortable with it but…it can be small,” Irina offered.

Even if it was just running coffee, Irina figured she’d be hard pressed to decline it.

“You don’t want to go into the field with the others?” Pepper asked.

Irina shook her head.

It was something she’d discussed at length with her dad and Nyarai. After weeks of back-and-forth, Irina decided it wasn’t something she wanted to do.

She’d fought her entire life and with Hydra finally out of her head, she was excited at the idea of trying to figure out what else life had to offer.

Excited and nervous.

It was all she’d known after all.

Straying from it was daunting.

“And this is something you really want?”

“It is,” Irina affirmed, “I…want to try different things. I…want to see if there’s anything else I’m half-ways decent at, other than…well, you know.”

The smile she gave was half-hearted despite her best efforts and she knew by the way Pepper looked at her that the woman saw through it.

“I’m sure we can find something, Irina. I’ll see what Tony thinks once he gets back. We’d start of with something small, ideally.”

Irina could see the gears turning in Pepper’s mind and let herself hope that perhaps she stood a chance.

“That’s fair,” Irina said with a quick nod, “and I’m really not picky. Whatever everyone is comfortable with.”

She couldn’t imagine what that would be, but surely between Pepper, Tony, and Nick, something could be arranged.

Irina thanked Pepper profusely, leaving her office with a giddy smirk as she headed back to the residential wing.

“I think that went very well, Ms. Barnes,” Friday commented happily.

“Thank you, Friday,” Irina beamed, “I certainly hope so.”

It was a strange feeling – for everything around her to be so hopeful - and part of her was wary of blindly enjoying it.

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, miss,” Friday assured.

Irina sighed.

“I hope you’re right, Friday. It’s just…hard. Worrying is hardwired into me.”

It was a hard thing to shake when it had been part of the makeup that kept her alive through decades of torture…

“I could utilize the facility’s sprinkler system to spray you whenever I register a change in your vitals indicating a rise in anxiety?”

Irina stopped in her tracks and looked up, searching for one of the cameras that served as Friday’s eyes and coming up short.

“Was that a joke, Friday?” she asked, smirking.

_Of course it was – Tony Stark wouldn’t create an AI without a sense of humor._

“It was, miss.”

Irina chuckled and continued on her way.

When she neared her destination, Friday’s voice broke the relative silence of the hallway.

“Miss, I’ve been informed that the quinjet is fifteen minutes out,” she reported, “boss said you’d want to know.”

Irina stopped in her tracks, spun on her heel and immediately changed course for the loading bay.

It alarmed her that they were back after her conversation with Pietro only a few hours ago. Her mind resorted to running through dozens of worst-case scenarios and she paled, terrified.

What if someone was badly hurt?

Pietro’s call had ended so abruptly…

_What if –_

“Any reports of injuries, Friday?”

“No, miss.”

Relief hit Irina like a freight train.

_Thank god…_

“Their mission was a success?”

She broke off into a light jog towards the lift, weaving around confused agents as she went.

“By all accounts, yes.”

“And Pietro?”

A short but tense pause, before –

“A few cuts and scrapes have been reported, miss, nothing more.”

_Again, thank god…_

When she reached the loading bay, Friday updated her on their ETA and Irina sat on a crate, nervously waiting for the doors to open.

It was stupid – Pietro was fine after all, Friday said so – but her nerves remained.

It frustrated her more than anything. She knew how it went; the unconventional ‘job’ Pietro had. There were no guarantees, no promises he could make. There would always be a very real, very serious risk involved.

Thinking otherwise was naïve.

Irina tapped her foot.

That risk had never been at the forefront of her mind before, but then again, she’d not had people in her life she cared about before.

Not having the control now was uncomfortable.

“Stop it.”

She glanced back over her shoulder and smirked as Bucky approached.

“Stop what?”

“Overthinking it,” he said with an amused snort, sitting down beside her and nudging her with his elbow, “you still suck at hiding when you’re doing it. Hate to break it to you.”

Irina rolled her eyes.

“How’d your talk with Pepper go?” Bucky asked, watching her closely.

Irina kept her focus on the hanger doors but shrugged.

“Okay…I think. Pepper’s going to talk to Tony, see if they can find something for me to do that doesn’t make every agent, secretary, and janitor in the place uncomfortable.”

Bucky’s expression fell and he reached out and grabbed her hand, halting her nervous fidgeting.

She looked to him from the corner of her eye and sighed.

“I know…I know…”

They’d had the conversation before, as they’d discussed whether or not going out into the field was wise for her. 

Irina knew it would take time – to find her footing, her place. Part of starting that process meant finding out more about herself; what she liked and enjoyed, where her strengths lay…

Just had he’d had to.

It hadn’t happened overnight for Bucky, and in truth it continued to be a work in progress with good and bad days.

She knew upon leaving Wakanda that it would be hard, but she didn’t realize it would feel quite like this.

It sucked.

“Stop being so damn hard on yourself,” Bucky soothed, “you belong here, sweetheart. Give yourself time to see it, it’s okay.”

Irina took a deep breath, managing a terse nod as she sincerely tried to take his words to heart.

“I –

Her response was cut off by the hanger doors opening and the quinjet entering smoothly.

Irina smiled brightly, the sight of the quinjet enough to nudge aside her worry for the time being. She stood, her excited energy making sitting still impossible.

“Excited much?” Bucky quipped, wincing and feigning hurt when she turned and swatted him.

“Don’t tease!” she warned, “what would Natasha say?”

“Nothin’ ‘cause you won’t tell her,” he blocked another swat, “teasing you is one of my privileges as your father!”

Irina scrunched up her nose, offended.

“Like hell it is!”

Bucky laughed, snatching her hand and squeezing it gently as she made another swipe at him.

“Dad!” Irina whined, trying to tug herself free, “come on!”

Bucky relented with a laugh, which intensified as she tried to shove him.

He didn’t move and she tried again, only to gain the same result.

_Fuck…a few weeks without a decent work out and I’ve gone soft!_

Bucky doubled over as he laughed, damn near hysterical by now.

Irina frowned.

“Stop it!”

He couldn’t breathe.

“Dad! Come on!”

He managed a tight, sharp intake of breath and tried to wave her off when he couldn’t find his voice.

Irina pointed at him.

“I’m telling Nat!”

She heard the quinjet’s ramp lower and pouted, pinching Bucky in one last attempt to silence him before turning her focus towards the jet.

Clint and Sam descended the ramp first, laughing and playfully shoving each other. Tony followed, looking frazzled and exhausted.

She expected Pietro to follow behind him, but when Tony and the others were halfway to her and there was still no sign of him, Irina began to worry.

Where could he be?

“This the only welcoming committee we get?” Sam bemoaned, gesturing around them with a sour look on his face, “come on, man, this is just sad!”

“We enjoyed the break actually,” Bucky teased, “a couple Falcon-less weeks? Hell of a vacation.”

Sam flipped him off, and Bucky’s laughter returned in full force.

“Tin-man’s laughing too damn much for my liking,” Clint grumbled.

Sam elbowed him.

“It’s cause of you-know-who?”

Clint rolled his eyes and Bucky threw a wrench at Sam, which he easily avoided.

“You see that, Stark? Violence in the workplace!”

“Give me a break, bird-brain,” Tony scoffed, “we’ve spent the last few days getting shot at, blown up, and dodging collapsing buildings…and a wrench has you wanting to file a complaint with HR?”

Irina paled, ignoring the joking men to look beyond them to the quinjet.

Bucky elbowed Tony hard and scowled at him, muttering under his breath for him to keep talk of their mission’s troubles to himself.

“Where is the speedster anyway?” Tony asked, looking around them.

His answer came in the form of a white-blue streak of light zipping past and around them. Tony and Clint jumped back, and Sam cried out, clutching his foot and hopping around as he cursed the Sokovian.

Bucky laughed hard at his friends’ expense.

Irina couldn’t follow the streaking light but tried regardless.

Her heart raced and she couldn’t keep the smirk from her lips, even at his showboating.

He sped around her, the breeze it created blowing her hair up and in her face.

“Pietro!” Irina huffed, brushing aside her hair, “stop showing off and slow down so I can –

He slowed on a dime, appearing in front of her as if from nowhere with a cocky smirk before scooping her up into a tight hug.

His face buried in the crook of her neck, she felt him take a greedy breath and sigh heavily in contentment.

“Printsessa…”

Irina rubbed his back, one hand sneaking up to try and tame the chaotic tangle that was his hair when she realized just how messy it was.

“Hey, handsome…”

He didn’t loosen his embrace and said nothing, seemingly content to just hold her despite the audience they had.

Irina blushed and waved Tony off as he snickered.

Bucky, thankfully, urged him and the others away when no one made to leave.

Irina gave him an appreciative look and a small wave as they were finally given some privacy.

Her heart raced wildly as she took a moment to savor the warmth of him, their audience having disbanded.

“Pietro…are you okay?”

He nodded quickly into her neck, pressing a quick, light kiss to her shoulder before pulling back to look at her.

“Pietro –

Irina frowned, her voice fading away, as she was able to see the bruises on his face clearly for the first time.

He had a scrape on his chin and another, albeit smaller one, over his left eye. He was sporting a shiner on his right eye, and his bottom lip was swollen and red.

Despite his appearance and how exhausted he surely felt, the fool was sporting a dopey smirk that made her suddenly breathless.

Irina brushed a wayward chocolate brown curl out of his eyes, fingertips lingering on his temple – where she discovered another scrape.

“What happened?” she asked in a whisper.

Pietro shrugged, reaching up to take her hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss.

“’s nothing, Irina, don’t worry.”

She watched him kiss the back of her hand slowly, biting her lip when his lips lingered over her knuckles.

“Telling me not to worry is a good way to get me worrying,” she quipped, smirking.

“’m fine though,” he assured her, “just a bit banged up…”

Irina watched him expectantly, eager to hear how someone as fast as he was managed to get ‘banged up’.

Pietro sighed, shaking his head.

“Got clipped by some debris evacuating a building as it collapsed,” he admitted quickly, returning to kissing her hand as though his words raised no further questions.

They did.

Plenty of them.

But Irina bit her tongue.

She wanted this…whatever it was they were…to work. Being overbearing and neurotic wasn’t going to see that happen.

Pietro smiled as he took her hand, heading towards the lift.

As they walked, Irina filled him in on what she’d been up to while he’d been gone. It was an embarrassingly short conversation, but she was encouraged by how excited he was when she told him about the idea she’d gone to Pepper with.

“It might just be running coffee and doing small errands for Pepper,” she said with a shrug, “but it’s something, I guess.”

Irina could practically hear Nyarai scolding her for trying to minimize it.

_Small steps forward were still steps forward. Blah, blah, blah._

“It’s a big something, love,” he assured her, squeezing her hand, “I’m so glad you spoke to her.”

“Me too,” she said with a small smile, hopeful.

“Good thing I got us a reservation at a restaurant Tony recommended for tomorrow. You’re new job might be keeping you busy soon.”

Irina stopped in her tracks and Pietro looked to her, smirking.

“R-Really?”

She couldn’t keep the grin from her lips – it was really happening!

“Really,” he said softly, “though if I’m being honest, Tony got us the reservation.”

He blushed, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“It was too fancy for my name to get us something without waiting eight months on a waitlist…”

“That’s okay,” she assured him happily, “really, Pietro.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

“It didn’t need to be super fancy though.”

It really didn’t.

She’d be happy to just go and get a burger with him, if that was what he wanted.

“I’m new to this,” she reminded him with a short laugh, “whatever you pick is perfect.”

Pietro looked relieved, the tension leaving his shoulders.

“Tony said Pepper loves it,” he mumbled, still a bit nervous, “but I guess its really fancy…I have to wear a jacket and tie.”

Irina chuckled at the way he grumbled the last bit and his nose scrunched up slightly in disgust.

“We don’t have to, if you won’t be comfortable,” she soothed, “we could get a burger or –

“No! No!” he cleared his throat, “sorry…I’d like to.”

“You’re sure?”

Pietro nodded, his grip on her hand tightening.

“I want to spoil you…”

She wanted to argue it, but the sweet way he said it made that impossible.

_Damn you, Pietro Maximoff…_

“Okay,” she conceded, “if you insist.”

Pietro smirked but noticed the hint of concern in her eyes and his smile faded.

“Printsessa?”

She blinked, turning to him.

“Hmm?”

“What is it, love?”

She chewed the inside of her cheek.

“I just…have no idea what to wear,” she mumbled, “if you have to wear a jacket and tie, then my sundresses and jeans won’t be good enough and I don’t have much else…”

His smile returned and as they stepped onto the lift, he brought her hand back to his lips.

“Sounds like you should do a bit of shopping, printsessa. Wanda knows all of the good shops nearby.”

As his lips pressed to the back of her hand, Irina’s smile returned.

“Does she now?”


	2. Date Night, Pt I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irina and Pietro's long-awaited date night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Translations:**  
>  ‘milaya’ = sweet girl, darling

Irina’s excitement at the idea of spending the day shopping evaporated by the time they reached their third store.

She’d lost count of the dresses she’d tried on and couldn’t help but feel defeated.

“Why is this so damn hard?”

Irina slumped down into the plush chair and frowned as she looked at the pile of dresses she’d tried on, stacked high in the chair opposite her.

Wanda crossed her arms and hummed as she regarded the pile, equally disappointed.

“I’m sorry, I thought we’d have better luck here…”

“We’ve had good luck,” Nat sighed, pulling the two that were ‘maybes’ from their hangers, “we’re making it harder than it is. Come on.”

She grabbed Irina’s hand, hoisting her up from the comfort of the chair, and headed back into the dressing room.

Door closed, Irina shirked off her jeans and shirt and stood expectantly, her arms wrapped loosely around herself. She trusted Natasha – both not to gawk and not to ridicule - but she was still relieved when the redhead handed her the first dress.

Irina needed more of a shield from the world then her panties and bra offered.

“Here we go…”

Natasha helped her shimmy into it and fasten the buttons up the back.

“I love this colour on you,” she commented wistfully, “let Wanda have another look.”

Irina nodded and stepped out of the dressing room.

Wanda looked her up and down but didn’t seem as wowed by it as she had initially.

“It’s too –

“Matronly,” Irina finished for her, looking down at herself in embarrassment, “I look ridiculous.”

“You do not!” Wanda countered quickly, stepping forward to adjust the ruffled pleat of the skirt, “stop that!”

“But…”

Maybe it wasn’t ‘matronly’ per se, but it didn’t feel young and vibrant; despite the deep wine color being flattering.

_What was I thinking…_

Irina couldn’t help it. She’d been drawn to the longer sleeves and was still trying to figure out exactly why.

She’d worn sundresses often enough, why did having bare arms and a shorter cut skirt suddenly scare her now?

It felt like she had taken a step backwards…

“It’s okay to be nervous, Irina,” Natasha soothed, brushing Irina’s hair back over her shoulders, “it’s your first date, its to be expected.”

“Pietro would want you to wear whatever makes you comfortable,” Wanda added with a smile.

“Why don’t we try the other one?” Natasha suggested.

Irina nodded and followed her back into the dressing room.

The second one was a bit more risky (at least as far as Irina was concerned) and had been Wanda’s favorite.

The skirt cut Irina at the knee and was a delicate blue-grey chiffon that made her immediately want to spin about just to feel it twirl. It’s sleeves stopped at her elbows and the lacey detailing continued over the bust and back, where the fabric dipped down to reveal a sliver of her bare back.

She shivered as Natasha secured the clasp at the top of the zipper.

“With your hair up and a great pair of heels, milaya, you’ll knock him dead.”

Irina bit her lip and looked down at herself.

_The lace does make it prettier than the last one…_

“I want to see!” Wanda piped from beyond the door.

Natasha laughed and urged Irina forward.

“Oh, Irina, you look gorgeous!” Wanda beamed, unable to contain her delight or her smile when Irina stepped out.

She blushed, glancing to Natasha nervously.

“You’re sure its not too fancy?”

It certainly felt like it as far as Irina was concerned.

And the idea of arriving at the restaurant overdressed mortified her.

“It’s perfect,” Natasha assured her, “Tony told me where Pietro’s taking you, this is on point.”

Irina repeated her words inwardly, trying to take them to heart, but so many worries remained. Since leaving the compound that morning and waving goodbye to Pietro like an idiot as they drove off, she’d had no reprieve from them.

How was a date supposed to go? What if they got to the restaurant and there was a problem with their reservation? What if they had nothing to talk about? What if –

“Irina?” Natasha spoke softly, lightly touching her arm, “what’s wrong?”

She glanced up and saw Wanda’s worried gaze on her too.

She shrugged.

“I just can’t stop worrying about it,” she admitted quietly, “I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You won’t,” Wanda said without hesitation, “you can’t. You care about Pietro, right?”

Irina nodded quickly.

“Well, he cares about you. You’re just going out to have fun together.”

“But…what if…what if I don’t know what to say or there’s nothing for us to talk about?”

She paled at the idea of the evening bringing awkward silences and uncomfortable throat-clearing…

“There’s always something to talk about,” Natasha said with a chuckle.

“And when in doubt, ask him about his car,” Wanda added, “he can’t shut up about the damn thing.”

_Right…the car…when in doubt, go for the car…_

“You make it sound so easy…”

“It is!” Wanda insisted, grabbing her hands, “you’ll wow him at dinner, Irina, I know it.”

Irina took a deep breath to steady herself and nodded, trying desperately to let her words and confidence sink into her pores.

_I’ve got this…I’ve got this…_

“And just you wait, there will come a day when you’ll be my sister-in-law!”

_W-Wait…w-w-what?_

The colour drained from Irina’s face as she exhaled, and Wanda’s words really sunk in.

_Sister-in-law…like…like if Pietro and I…if we were…m-m-married?_

Natasha glared at Wanda and swatted her arm.

“Too much, Maximoff!” she admonished.

“I’m sorry!” Wanda said in a hurry, realizing she’d gotten too far ahead of herself, “really, Irina! It’s just dinner; talk, laugh, and have fun!”

Irina nodded dumbly, allowing Natasha to lead her back into the dressing room.

“Don’t stress about tonight,” Natasha whispered as she helped Irina out of her dress, “by the time it comes around, everything will go smoothly, and you’ll have worried about it all for nothing.”

Irina grasped for her clothes with shaky hands.

“Y-You’re right,” she managed to mumble, “I know, it’s just –

Natasha grabbed and steadied her trembling hands, silently helping her hold her jeans so she could get her feet into the leg holes.

When she was finally dressed, Natasha sighed and squeezed her hands.

“Don’t worry about tonight,” she said firmly, “don’t worry about tomorrow or the next day. Just a moment at a time, okay?”

Irina gave her a blank look.

“Right now we’re shopping,” Natasha continued, “we’re in this store, in this dressing room. Don’t look three steps ahead. Just right now. Right here.”

_Right…one thing at a time…_

She took a sharp breath and nodded.

“O-Okay.”

“Good,” Natasha gave her hands one last squeeze, “so, is this the one?”

She gestured to the dress, already straightened on the padded hanger and perched on the hook.

“Yes,” Irina decided.

_It’ll do…_

“Excellent,” Natasha smirked as she carefully plucked it from the hook, “because your dad gave me his credit card – it’s on him.”

* * *

Irina sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes closed as Natasha worked on her hair and makeup. Her dress was draped over her dresser, swaddled in plastic and a protective slip the store had provided.

It had ended up being much more expensive than she’d thought, but Natasha assured her it was an ‘investment piece’.

It was enough to calm that particular worry; or at the very least nudge it aside for others to take its place.

She toyed with the hem of her slip and tapped her bare foot on the floor as Natasha worked.

“Are you excited to see Pietro all dressed up?” Natasha asked as she worked, smiling fondly at the anxious woman before her.

Eyes still closed; Irina just smiled.

“I heard from Tony that he’s a nervous wreck,” Natasha added with a laugh, “spent the better part of the day trying to figure out if he should wear a pocket square or not.”

“Really?”

Irina opened her eyes as Natasha paused her work.

“Yeah,” she dabbed off the excess shadow from her brush as she smirked, “men get nervous about going out on dates too, you know.”

It wasn’t something Irina had thought of.

But the idea of Pietro even half as nervous as she was, looking perfect in a nice suit with his hair tamed…maybe his beard tidied and some nice cologne on…

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Natasha accused playfully.

“No,” she snapped, “was not –

“You were,” Natasha beamed, “want to know your tell?”

Irina scowled.

“I don’t have a tell –

“You get this far-off, soft look in your eyes,” Natasha said, undeterred by her pout, “like you’re in your own little world.”

She took a step back to consider her handiwork before tiding the eyeshadow near the corner of Irina’s eye.

“Pietro-world,” Natasha continued, a barely contained, teasing smirk on her lips, “you’ve got it bad, milaya.”

While her hackles raised at the mention of ‘Pietro-world’, Irina couldn’t deny that Natasha was right in one regard.

She did have it bad.

“I guess…that’s why I’m so nervous,” Irina began, “he’s so important to me and…”

She swallowed hard. Her chest was suddenly tight, and her hands felt numb. She wrung them, desperate to get the unsettling feeling to go away.

“I just keep thinking he’ll get tired of waiting for me to get my shit together. I mean…I come with more baggage than most…”

_Understatement of the year, most likely…_

“What if –

Natasha shushed her.

“One moment at a time, Irina.”

Embarrassed, Irina nodded tersely and hung her head.

It infuriated her how easily those thoughts returned to the forefront of her mind. Every word Natasha had said at the shop was true – she’d gain nothing by worrying over things three, four steps ahead of where she was.

She knew that.

But just when she thought she’d fooled her mind, it crept up on her faster than she could recognize its approach.

“Hey…”

Natasha tapped Irina’s chin, encouraging her to look up.

She continued only when Irina’s gaze met hers.

“Remember, you’re talking about the guy who waited a year for you.”

It was a very good point; one she’d overlooked in the midst of her flurry of ‘what ifs’.

“That’s…true.”

Natasha smirked.

“Trust me, Irina. You’re going to knock him dead tonight.”

Irina sighed.

She wished she had Natasha’s confidence. Even just a shred of it. Maybe then she’d fare better when those intrusive thoughts crept up on her.

“How are you so sure?” she asked heavily, “Pietro waited, yeah, but –

Natasha gently grabbed her chin, forcing Irina to look up and hold her gaze.

“You – Irina Barnes – give yourself far, far too little credit,” she said firmly, unwavering, “you’re going to have fun with him tonight. You’re going to laugh and be sweet and charming and he’ll fall head-over-heels for you.”

Natasha pushed up the corner of Irina’s mouth with her thumb, smirking in triumph as Irina took the hint and smiled.

“You’ve got this, milaya.”

Irina sighed, but her smile remained.

“Maybe, maybe not,” she conceded, “but I guess I won’t know till I try, right?”

* * *

Pietro paced the elevator lobby, fidgeting with the buttons of his blazer as he checked his watch for what had to be the hundredth time since he stepped out of his room.

Irina wasn’t late for meeting him, if anything he was early, but he couldn’t help it. He’d been waiting for the chance to take her out, to spoil her, for a year. It had become this larger than life event he’d built up and now, anything less than perfect would be a failure.

_No pressure…_

He hoped, with everything Tony had done for them, he had a better chance of succeeding.

Aside from getting them the reservation and lending them a car for the night, Tony had helped him figure out what to wear. A run-down of the restaurant from Friday – and a quick Google search - had made it painfully clear that Pietro would be out of his element. It wasn’t the sort of place jeans would be accepted…and jeans and track pants were about all he had.

Tony hooked him up, putting him in a suit that undoubtedly cost more than he could even begin to wrap his head around. It felt strange, to see himself in the mirror at the tailors, and standing by the elevators now he wondered if maybe it was too much.

_If Irina laughs when she sees me, I’m going to die…_

The suit was navy except for the lapels of his blazer, which were black. It seemed odd to him, but Tony didn’t seem concerned. Pietro had lost the fight to go tie-free but had won the battle against cufflinks and a pocket square.

He figured that had to count for something.

Huffing out a heavy sigh, Pietro checked his watch (another item he’d lost the fight to go without).

“She’s rubbing off on you.”

Pietro looked up quickly, startled, and noticed for the first time he wasn’t alone.

Bucky stood, arms crossed and leaning against the doorway.

“Or were you an anxious mess before she came into your life?”

Pietro laughed, running his fingers through his hair. Immediately he wondered how long Bucky had been watching him pace the lobby like an idiot.

“I just…don’t want to mess this up for her,” he admitted with a sigh.

While he honestly appreciated everything Tony had done for him, it only added to the pressure he was feeling. It was like Tony had bought stock in their date. Messing up or disappointing Irina meant letting down him as well.

He wasn’t sure he could handle it.

“I know,” Bucky said with a smirk, “you do look like you’re going to pass out though.”

Pietro paled.

_Was it really that obvious?_

“Tell me its not that bad…”

His biggest fear was that his scrapes and bruises wouldn’t have faded enough. The last thing he wanted to do was walk into a fancy restaurant sporting a shiner. He didn’t want to embarrass Irina like that.

Tony had assured him they had, but now Pietro had doubts. He tugged at his tie, which was suddenly far too tight for his liking.

Bucky gave a short laugh before approaching and swatting Pietro’s hands aside to fix his tie. He loosened it, then adjusted it so it still laid flat.

“Is that better?”

_Not really…_

“I think so…”

“Can you breathe?” Bucky clarified.

Pietro didn’t say anything, but his expression was answer enough. With a huff, Bucky loosened it some more before tugging it off completely.

“Tony said –

“I’m sure he’d rather you were able to breathe on this date,” Bucky mused, shoving the tie in his back pocket, “better?”

Pietro nodded quickly.

“Yes…thank you,” he said, “are…are you here to tell me not to mess this up for Irina?”

Bucky’s lips quirked in amusement.

“I don’t think I need to,” he unbuttoned the top buttons of Pietro’s shirt, “looks weird buttoned to the top with no tie. There.”

Bucky took a step back to better take him in, ultimately nodding.

Pietro hoped given Bucky’s lack of revulsion that he was at least presentable.

“I don’t know what Tony was thinkin’ with that tie,” Bucky mumbled.

Pietro chuckled, and he was relived that it sounded halfway convincing.

“Where were you when he was trying to sell me on the pocket square?”

At the time, Pietro had thought it had been a joke. It hardly seemed something Tony would push so strongly for. But then maybe he was nervous too?

There was certainly a strange feeling in the compound Pietro hadn’t really been able to shake.

The first sign had come while he’d been eating breakfast. He’d had a mouth full of cereal when Steve walked up behind him and squeezed his shoulders before asking if he was looking forward to the ‘big night’.

Pietro’s stammering reply had been less than graceful…or coherent.

Then, when he had been heading to meet Tony, Natasha had cornered him. Her smile had been so exuberant, he almost forgot he was looking at a masterclass assassin and spy. When she had smacked his arm and playfully asked if he was looking forward to seeing Irina ‘all dressed up’, he couldn’t help but blush.

And then Tony had given him a wide-eyed, almost offended look when he’d expressed doubt about the pocket square.

Now that Pietro thought about it, Bucky was the only person he’d seen that day that seemed remotely level-headed.

It was a much-needed breath of fresh air.

“Pocket squares…Jesus,” Bucky grumbled.

“Everyone’s been weird today, honestly,” Pietro confessed quietly, “it hasn’t helped my nerves. I…I don’t mean to be this much of a mess…”

Bucky’s expression was sympathetic, but Pietro glanced downward, nonetheless. He fidgeted with the button on his cuff.

“Don’t overthink it,” he advised, “and don’t let everyone else being weird even factor into tonight. Pietro…”

He forced himself to look up and meet Bucky’s gaze.

“She’s already hopelessly head-over-heels for you. Just relax, have fun.”

Pietro couldn’t keep the beaming grin from his lips. He knew what he felt, knew what he saw in her when they were together, but to have someone else – her own father no less – confirm things, was an immense relief.

He was about to thank Bucky, when he caught a glimpse of something shift in the shadows of the hallway beyond him.

“I-Irina…”

Bucky turned as her name left his lips, but Pietro didn’t register his reaction beyond that. Hell, he hardly noticed Natasha standing a short distance behind Irina.

“Printsessa…you’re gorgeous.”

Irina’s smile was small and echoing the same anxiety he felt. She’d opted to wear her hair down and Pietro was struck by the sudden desire to run his fingers through it. Her make-up was minimal, or at least it appeared to be to his eye, and her dress fit her beautifully.

The skirt of it fluttered about her legs as she approached him, her heels clicking softly on the tile. He could scarcely swallow the lump in his throat when she stopped before him and timidly reached up to flatten the collar of his shirt.

“Thank you,” she said with a smirk, “you don’t look too shabby yourself.”

_Oh thank god!_

“Thank Tony,” Pietro admitted with a laugh, “I’m hopeless!”

Though his collar was no doubt straightened, Irina’s hand was still pressed lightly to his chest.

It floored him how satisfying that little, affectionate touch was.

“Oh, I don’t know…I’m sure you get some of the credit.”

There was the barest hint of a teasing glint in her eyes, and he had to remind himself Bucky and Natasha were watching when the urge to kiss her breathless struck him.

“Too kind, as always, printsessa…”

He brushed her hair back over her shoulder, fingers lingering ever so slightly at her cheek as he looked at her.

“Ready for that spoilin’ I promised you?”

He squeezed her hand as it lay against his chest.

She nodded, and Pietro finally looked beyond her to their audience. When he registered Natasha’s barely contained glee, he crossed his fingers Irina didn’t glance back and get the full brunt of it. Bucky, to his credit, was a bit more composed.

“We’ll see you later tonight, yes?” he said warmly, taking Irina’s hand properly.

“Have fun,” Bucky said with a smile, his arm around Natasha.

Irina gave them a little wave as she stepped onto the elevator with him and as the doors closed, Pietro looked down at her and smiled, squeezing her hand tight.

* * *

When the elevator doors closed and they began their descent to the garage, Irina let out the breath she had been holding.

All the nervous anticipation she’d endured for hours leading up to this moment evaporated the moment she’d seen Pietro. And while that had been a relief, a new excitement fluttered in her chest, making her heart race.

“Are you alright, Irina?”

She touched her cheek with her free hand, smiling nervously at Pietro as she registered just how warm and flushed she was.

“I’m sorry,” she hurried, “I’m so excited, but I’m just so nervous too…”

“Me too,” Pietro soothed.

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it as he held her gaze.

“I think it’s to be expected,” he added.

“That’s what Natasha told me. I still feel like I might faint though…”

As soon as the admission passed her lips, she wanted to take it back. The last thing she wanted was to make Pietro feel as though she was dreading their date.

She hurried to fix it.

“It’s not like…I didn’t mean it like that! I want to be here! I –

He gently shushed her.

“It’s okay, printsessa. Really. I thought I was going to faint myself until your father came by and saved me,” he chuckled, “Stark had my tie so tight I’d have passed out by now…”

Realization struck her.

“So it was your tie in his back pocket!”

She couldn’t contain her amusement and let go of his hand to playfully smack his chest.

“What about the pocket square?”

Pietro paled.

“Natasha told me –

Pietro pointed at her.

“Hey, I won that fight!”

Irina bit the inside of her lip to try and quell her giggles.

“Now here I am,” Pietro continued with a dramatic huff, “teased and abused, with my beautiful printsessa for a full…

He checked his watch.

“Four minutes…and I’ve not gotten a kiss.”

Irina didn’t allow herself the breath to second-guess herself. She touched his arm as he continued to fuss as he straightened his blazer, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

She’d meant it to be teasing, at least partially, but as pulled back her gaze met his. She saw him look at her lips and managed a little smile before kissing him properly.

The softness of his lips, coupled with the scent of his cologne, had her head spinning. He was perfect, all consuming. If all kisses between them were going to be like this, she didn’t think she’d ever get enough.

_Safe…he’s so safe…_

She wanted to wrap herself up in him and leaned in to close the distance between them.

Pietro’s hand at the small of her back sent a shiver up her spine and as their lips parted, Irina was struck with a strange fuzzy feeling she immediately liked.

She licked her lips.

“W-Wow…”

His smirk made the fuzzy feeling get stronger.

_Wow…_

“You said that the first time we kissed; you know…”

She shrugged; a bit embarrassed now that the warmth of their kiss had lifted from her lips.

“Can’t help it…”

Pietro hugged her to him, pressing a kiss to the top of her head that immediately had her smiling again.

“You don’t have to,” he relaxed his hold on her as the lift stopped and the doors opened, “here we are.”

Irina took his hand and tried not to think of the last time she was in the garage.

“Someday soon hopefully I’ll be able to take you out in the Camaro,” Pietro mused, “but for now…Tony said we could take this for the night.”

Pietro tapped the key fob he produced from his pocket, and the lights of an insanely sleek and modern car flickered not far from where they were.

Irina’s eyes widened in awe.

“Pietro,” she hissed, looking up at him, “that’s got to cost a fortune!”

“Probably,” he shrugged, “I didn’t ask.”

As they neared it, Irina got a better glimpse of its hood ornament.

She felt the colour leave her face in an instant.

How drunk had Pietro gotten Tony to convince him to loan out a Mercedes-Benz?

“Pietro…”

“I’ve got you with me, printsessa,” he assured her with a fond look, “I’ll drive safely.”

“So if you were alone you’d drive like an idiot?”

She wasn’t sure how that was supposed to be reassuring.

“Please, I can run faster than this thing,” a strange look flashed in his eyes, “maybe…”

_No!_

“You’re not running us to the restaurant, Pietro!”

He pouted but opened the passenger side door for her regardless.

“Another time?” he asked hopefully.

Irina tucked her skirt in so it wouldn’t close in the door.

“Prove to me that you can drive this responsibly…and we’ll talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm embarrassed how long this update took me :( February! I posted chapter one in February! Gawd! I hope this chapter contains the fluff you hoped for! The next chapter has already been started and *fingers crossed* you won't have to wait another 5 months to see the second half of their date (and a bit more). My goodness, I'm awful :(
> 
> Anyways, I do hope you like this chapter, dear readers! Fluffy goodness will not last forever, so you best enjoy it now while it lasts ;)
> 
> Your patience means the world to me! :) take care for now!

**Author's Note:**

> Initial thoughts? :)
> 
> I know we're starting off slow, but it will pick up - believe me!
> 
> Enjoy the tooth-rotting fluff while it lasts! Copious amounts of hurt and angst are gonna be heading your way soon!


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